Hold On To Your Kite
by wellversedinconverse
Summary: "True or false it may be, she's still out to get me." Damon deals with an out of control newly, undead doppleganger. One-shot.


**A/N: Usual disclaimer. Do not own these characters but they sure own me lol. I know this is probably _very_ far off from what the sadistic writers have in store for us in Season 4, but I just needed to put this fantasy of mine into words. **

**I'm also changing it up a bit here, venturing into unchartered, semi-angsty waters, so I apologize if there isn't as much humour in this fic like my previous ones.**

**Anyway, please review and enjoy! **

**P.S. I kind of had The Kook's "Naïve" on repeat whilst writing this. **

* * *

_True or false, it may be  
She's still out to get me  
_

He glanced down at the phone in his hand to check the time. 10:53pm. It had been hours since he started tracking her, ever since she dashed out of the boarding house, screaming for them not to follow.

So if she knew him at all – and she did – she would know that he would only take that as an unnecessarily loud invitation. What would "respecting" her choices mean if he let her loose on the town, emotions heightened, and thirsting for fresh _human_ blood?

She lasted the bunny diet for approximately six days, until he found her sprawled on the wooden floor of his bedroom one night, blood bags surrounding her. He remembered taking a breath that he didn't need, as her vampire visage disappeared, revealing those huge doe eyes that haunted his dreams every night. She had her hair fanned out before her, and he watched the blood leak out of the bags, staining the brown locks a dark red.

He remembered his mouth begin to dry as his eyes travelled up the length of her body, slender legs barely covered in her short pyjama bottoms, stopping at the thin white camisole clinging to her skin. He itched to touch her then, the rise and fall of her chest, her hardened nipples teasing him, until he realized that she had been with his brother earlier that night. Only then did his stomach begin to churn.

"Go away, Damon," she said tiredly, rolling her eyes upward.

"Why? This happens to be _my_ room that you just trashed."

"Well, I don't want you in here, talking to me, and looking at me like that."

"Looking at you like what?" he asked, the softness in his voice betraying him. He wondered if he could still do the "eye-thing" that she had warned him about so long ago. It all felt so déjà vu, as if it were from another lifetime.

Maybe because it was.

She glared and stood up in one swift movement, coming face to face with him. He wished to reach up and wipe away the blood trickling down the corner of her mouth.

"Like you always do," she sighed.

And then she was gone, leaving a bloody mess in her wake.

He scrubbed the floors for hours that night.

He had an inkling that she knew he would, neat freak tendencies and all. He smiled in spite of himself.

That was the last time that they were alone together. Even though she continued to struggle, she never ventured into his room like that again. They would act civil and exchange greetings at most, only sneaking glances when they thought no one was watching.

It was one of the many things that they liked to fool themselves into thinking.

Now here he was, leaning against the hard brick wall of a building, adjacent to a dingy little night club, with mediocre alcohol, and mediocre music (not at all suitable for the likes of himself or a certain newly undead doppelganger.)

Of course she would pick a place that was so far off from the _Elena Gilbert_.

Figures.

And yet, it seemed like the world still orbited around her, as she stood there in line, all legs, plump lips, and wide soulful eyes. She had all of the men already panting after her, and as much as he wanted to throttle them, he couldn't really blame them either.

His ears pricked up, muting everything but the huskiness of her voice, a "Let's get out of here" in the ear of the luckiest (unluckiest) boy, with no doubt a fake ID that would have kicked him out of the line anyway.

_Smart girl_, he thought. Going to a secluded spot would be a lot less disastrous than a newborn vamp entering an enclosed room full of warm bodies, and an endless supply of blood thrumming beneath their thin layers of skin.

He watched them leave, with their hands clasped, and he was suddenly glad that_ he_ wasn't the newborn vamp that had little to no self control. It was like she knew he was there, witnessing every moment.

Well, two could play at that game.

He left his post, and followed them into a dank and narrow alley way, feeling as if he were walking right into a scene from a movie, wherein the damsel needed saving from some poor jerk's drunken advances. But this wasn't a cliché, and she definitely didn't need to be saved. Not any more.

"I don't want to kiss you; I just want your blood. Is that so hard to understand?" he heard Elena hiss, as he came around the corner to see her holding the terrified boy up in a chokehold.

"Jesus, your eyes! What the hell are you?" the boy coughed out, trying to wriggle free from her vice-like grip in vain.

"Now, you know that the blood won't taste as sweet when they're scared, Elena."

"Damn it, Damon. I can take care of this," Elena answered through gritted teeth.

"Then again, you prefer them bitter and broody, don't you?" he taunted, and with that, she released her prey, her back still facing him.

He sped in front of the boy before he could get away, and was suddenly taken aback by the uncanny resemblance.

Damon held him at arms length to take a closer look, making sure that his own eyes (albeit impossible) weren't playing tricks on him.

The boy was the same build, the hair was as dark, and the skin was the same shade of alabaster, everything except for the eyes. The eyes, she failed to replicate.

For the first time that night, Damon's lips twitched upward into his signature smirk.

"Go on, say it. Whatever smart ass comment you have, I'm sure I've heard it before," she spat, turning around just in time to see him put two and two together.

"Look, man, I'm really sorry, I didn't know she had a boyfriend," mini-Damon whimpered, quivering in fear, and Damon nearly felt sorry for him.

"Oh no, I don't have the pleasure to call myself that, buddy. I'm just the guy that she wanted to fuck in a dirty motel," he chuckled, but he wasn't looking at the boy anymore, his eyes instead bored into Elena's, her expression nothing short of horrified.

"_Damon_," she said warningly.

"_Elena_," he mimicked her tone, echoing another painful conversation from long ago.

"Please, I don't want any trouble. Just let me go," the boy begged, his dull grey eyes glistening with tears.

"Why didn't you even compel him, Elena?" Damon asked, ignoring him.

"I – I don't know, okay? I don't…I don't want to compel anyone," Elena answered, and looked away.

"But you'd rather drain them dry? This is Vampire 101, sweetie. Snatch, eat, erase."

"_Vampire_?" the boy gasped, and Damon turned his attention back on him.

"Yes, we're vampires. But you are _not _afraid, so stay still for a second and shut up," Damon said slowly, as the boy's irises expanded, indicating that the compulsion had worked.

"Just let him go, Damon. I'm not hungry anymore," Elena said stubbornly, walking up and attempting to pull the boy away from him.

Damon took note of her newly found superhuman strength, but of course, he was older, and it did no more than budge him.

"You haven't fed properly since you binged out, half naked on my bedroom floor, so yes, Elena, of course you're goddamn hungry," he bit back, and if she had enough blood in her system, she would have blushed.

Instead she glared back at Damon, and took the boy's face in her hands, staring him right in the eyes. Damon let go, curious as to what she would do.

"You're going to get out of here and forget everything that happened tonight," Elena told the boy in a steady voice, releasing him. The boy blinked once, then scrambled out of sight.

"Now, why would you go and do something like that?" Damon moaned, staring up into the heavens.

"Why do _you_ always have to butt in and ruin everything?" she answered back angrily, her eyes darkening, tiny veins surfacing on her smooth skin.

"Because as much as it's a pain in the ass, I want to make sure that you won't do something that you'd regret," he admitted. He stepped toward her, taking in her sweet scent. He wondered how much longer he could take being so close without feeling her body against his.

Thankfully, he didn't have to wonder much longer.

He felt his back slam against the hard brick wall behind him, her slender fingers curling tightly around his neck.

Her knee was wedged in between his legs, and he immediately hardened in spite of himself.

"You know, I thought that the one perk out of all of this was finally the freedom. I'm immortal, asshole. You don't have to save me from the monsters any more because I _am_ one," she said bitterly, tears welling up in her blood shot eyes. Her fangs were finally bared, and she was so terrifying, and beautiful, and broken all at once.

"You're forgetting who you're talking to," he managed to say, wishing for her to give a roll of her eyes, an exasperated sigh, anything, _anything_.

She took a beat to stare at him.

"But you do have one thing right… I am hungry," she whispered, sliding her hand down to his shoulder, and baring his neck.

He moaned as her fangs sliced into his skin, relishing in the pain. His hand found its way on the side of her hip, while the other grasped onto her long dark locks, coaxing her to drink more. She complied, drinking deeper, and he suddenly felt light-headed.

He felt blood start to trickle down his neck, as she retracted her fangs to lick up the crimson stains along the skin of his collarbone.

Her hot tongue slid upward along his neck until she reached his lips. She pulled on his bottom lip with blunt teeth, making him hiss. He gripped harder on her hip, no doubt leaving a bruise that would disappear in a few minutes.

He tasted the tang of his own blood and realized it wasn't just residue from her tongue but from a cut on his lip. She sucked harder, and soon the feeding turned into frenzied kissing, as he opened his mouth up to devour her, like she devoured him.

"You're sweeter than the blood bags," she murmured against his mouth.

He didn't care. If this was the only way that she would have him then so be it. If this was his eternity then, _fuck_, he would gladly take it.


End file.
